


This Is Where

by dicks



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:17:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicks/pseuds/dicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a carton of milk in Gokudera's fridge</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Where

  
There is a carton of milk in the fridge.  
  
Gokudera scowls and tries avoiding looking directly at the offensive milk and then grabs a can of ginger ale instead.  
  
Out of compulsion, he sticks out his tongue at the milk. _Take that, you stinking idiot._  
  
-  
  
“This is where I’m confused,” Yamamoto groans, tapping his pencil wildly at his opened book.  
  
Grabbing the book, Gokudera glances over at the question, the same question he had been explaining to the other boy just less than thirty minutes ago and all of a sudden he feels like blowing shit up but then they are at his apartment and like hell he would stay with Bianchi; instead he grinds his teeth and hisses, “Has it ever occurred to you that you might be retarded?”  
  
“Is that a trick question?” Yamamoto asks cautiously.  
  
Gokudera stares at him and thinks that he has never seen anyone other than infants consume milk as much as Yamamoto does on a daily basis, really, and the stuff they said about milk being good for brain development is complete horseshit because he has solid proof sitting right in front of him, smiling like an moron and he sighs, “Forget it, baseball brain.”  
  
And he starts explaining all over again.  
  
-  
  
Gokudera stuffs his hands deep inside his pockets, something that he’s been doing lately to occupy himself whenever he feels like smoking because he had promised Tsuna sometime ago to cut down on his cigarette intake; and Tsuna is just too happy over his passing marks on their recent math quiz. Which Gokudera thinks shouldn’t be too surprising given how intellectual the head of Vongola is, and Gokudera is never one to doubt on his boss’s capabilities and then he leans against the steel gate, admiring the way Tsuna’s hair sways gently whenever the wind blows a little too strong.  
  
“I wonder how Yamamoto’s doing with his result.” Tsuna pushes strands of hairs away from his eyes, frowning slightly at the thought.  
  
“He’d better not fail tenth, I tell you, not after I spent most of last night drilling formulas into his thick skull.” He says without thinking.  
  
“Really?” Tsuna looks up at him, looking somewhere between pleased and alarmed.  
  
“Ahh tenth- it’s not like that!” he says quickly, stumbling. “It’s really not like what you think— and it’s not like I _purposely_ want to help that dork or anything. I just—" he pauses mid-rant.  
  
Because Tsuna’s lips slowly tugs into a small smile, like Gokudera just did something right and Gokudera can’t help feeling somewhat proud even it is baseball-freak-related, so he mumbles, “It’s not a big deal tenth, really.”  
  
From a distance Yamamoto is running towards them, looking ridiculously happy.  
  
-  
  
“There’s milk in the fridge.”  
  
“Hmm yeah?” Yamamoto asks, beaming brightly and Gokudera feels like some kind of hero. Or something.  
  
Gokudera watches Yamamoto saunter to the kitchen and then return with his favorite red mug and it never occurs to Gokudera to question the other boy why he spends most of the daylights and weekends at his place lately or why Yamamoto is sitting so close to him on the couch that their arms brush each time either of them shifts. It just happens that way.  
  
“It’s _your_ stupid milk.” He says, lifting his feet and settling them on the coffee table. It’s reached the point where he doesn’t even bother to swear properly around the idiot anymore.  
  
Yamamoto swallows his milk loudly and then grabs the remote. “So what’s on the show today?”  
  
“Heroes,” Gokudera snorts and then snatches the remote away from Yamamoto’s grip. “But we’re _not_ watching.”  
  
Yamamoto pouts, milk residue clinging around his lips.  
  
“Homework first,” Gokudera says curtly, glaring hotly at the white moustache.  
  
-  
  
In some messed up way Gokudera always knew it would happen, but still, it’s kind of surprising when their lips meet; Yamamoto’s fingers curve around Gokudera’s jaw, and Gokudera’s hand fist on Yamamoto’s shirt, tugging none too soft. The kiss lasts for almost twenty-seconds, with tongue and all.  
  
“Heyyy that was very umm yeah wow—” Yamamoto grins, scratching the back of his head after he pulls away. Gokudera lights a cigarette for lack of things to say. This is where they find themselves feeling awkward.  
  
And then Yamamoto opens his mouth then closes it and then begins again, “Can we do that one more time?”  
  
Gokudera rolls his eyes and kicks Yamamoto’s legs under the table and everything goes back to normal.  
  
-  
  
Gokudera blinks at the inside of his fridge.  
  
First the _milk_ and now sushi leftovers. Something is seriously going on here, something he can’t pinpoint but is undoubtedly hazardous to his sanity if he starts looking at the big picture and so he flips his middle finger at the objects in front of him and thinks maybe he shouldn’t communicate too much through the fridge or any other inert objects. Making a face, he shuts the door hard enough that it shakes.  
  
After two paces away, he retreats, opens back the fridge and shoves a cold tekkamaki into his mouth.  
  
-  
  
“Shut the hell up.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Because I know I have to say it at some point.”  
  
“But I didn’t even say anything.”  
  
“—Yet.” Gokudera retorts flatly. He gulps down the milk in one breath and screws his face in disgust. So what if he drinks milk? Even Yamamoto’s milk for that matter. It didn’t taste _that_ bad, not that he was ever going to admit it to anyone and besides there’s nothing left in his fridge because he _conveniently_ forgotten to stock up the day before, but still. His only regret is that Yamamoto caught him while doing it and that idiot would probably never shut about it for the next few decades.  
  
He places down the milk carton on the countertop and pulls Yamamoto in for a kiss— just to wipe that shit-eating-grin off his face.  
  
-  
  
Somewhere between trigonometry and history homework, Gokudera’s hand _happens_ to be on Yamamoto’s crotch and he tries not to fret over it, not even when he pulls the zipper down, not even as his hand sneaks into Yamamoto’s briefs. Possibly not ever.  
  
“Gokudera let me do you too.” Yamamoto says heavily, almost choking on his words.  
  
Gokudera strokes Yamamoto’s cock and thinks about the milk in the fridge, the warmth of Yamamoto’s flesh on his palm and the way Yamamoto _moans_ at his name and Gokudera decides maybe he should stop thinking altogether and he jerks away, watching Yamamoto’s flushed face as he begins removing his pants.  
  
-  
  
“We’re running out of milk.” Yamamoto says, coming out from the kitchen.  
  
“This is where you’re stupid,” Gokudera says, standing by the window with his back to Yamamoto, smoking and watching the rain pelting down onto the glass. “It is _you_ who’s running out of milk. This is my place and that _thing_ never existed here _before_ you.”  
  
There’s a skip of the heartbeat and Gokudera takes a deep shaky breath and doesn’t move. It came out all wrong and Gokudera thinks _fuck_ ; somehow he managed to make it sound like some kind of confession, and he is so fucked up and he prays to all the Gods, let it be one of Yamamoto’s very stupid moments, so he could just pretend like he said nothing, like it was nothing, like the whole business with the milk and the hand in the pants and the quick handjob on the couch means absolutely nothing, whatsoever.  
  
But then this is where Yamamoto comes, holding Gokudera by the hips, breathing too hard on Gokudera’s neck and Gokudera could practically _feel_ Yamamoto’s dopey smile on his skin and all he can say is, “Fuck you, Yamamoto.”  
  
And this is where Yamamoto says, “Yes.”  
  
-  
  
The next day when Yamamoto comes over, he brings along three cartons of milk with him.  
  
-


End file.
